


A Minor Maze Remix

by AshlarKithkanan



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 09:57:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshlarKithkanan/pseuds/AshlarKithkanan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to a prompt at the Skyrim Kink Meme: Mercer fucks a man. Hard. Plot not required.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Minor Maze Remix

He looked down at the flushed face of the younger Breton male, who was spread out on his desk. His eyes swept over the pale porcelain skin that gleamed with sweat and... juices.

Mercer tightened his grip on the mage’s bound wrists and hitched him a bit higher, knees spreading slender thighs apart.

_The insolent upstart!_

_He wasn’t even a thief!_

Just a weak, soppy mage from Winterhold sticking his nose where it wasn’t welcome. He had been asking after Isabelle Rolaine. How he even managed to find his way into the Ragged Flagon was a mystery. He had Dirge try to intimidate him, and yet he persisted, day in and day out in attempting to look for Vex, and eventually succeeded.

The fact that he had wandered, _wandered!_ into the Warrens and stole Dravin’s bow from under one of the younger thieves had infuriated him. They didn’t need any do gooders in the Ratways!

He shoved his fingers into that red, red mouth and almost groaned at the feel of that slick, hot tongue laving them enthusiastically, coating his digits with spit. There was something niggling at the back of his mind, his senses telling him something was wrong. One look at the dilated pupils and the curve of those bruised lips made him forget about the warning.

_Little bastard thinks it’s a game!_

He snarled, hauling the lithe body towards him, and then down towards the unforgiving floor. He may have winced a little as those bony knees hit the cold stone with a thud, but the momentary concern was swept away by the fact that those luscious lips were perfectly in line with his hard cock.

The lad leaned forward and started mouthing at the front of his breeches, licking wet stripes across the leather. His hands shook as he fumbled the laces open.

He yanked at the boy’s thick, impractically long hair and growled down at him, “Name!”

The mage smirked and answered mockingly, “Mistral, Guildmaster. Pleasure to meet you.”

And with that, leaned forward with his mouth open and swallowed him down.

Sight and sound abandoned Mercer. All he could focus on was fucking that damnable mouth. 

He thought he saw a flare of light, a gout of flame perhaps, but it was irrelevant when that marvelous tongue started to wiggle and press upwards on his cock with every suck. He gasped and snapped his hips forward, taking control, not letting the little pissant keep the upper hand.

He stumbled back onto his chair, latched onto the mage’s, _Mistral’s_ hair again and pulled until those lips closed against his throbbing cock once more. He used his new leverage to manhandle the mage’s mouth on his dick harder, faster, until he could feel himself hitting the back of Mistral’s throat.

He held himself there for several moments, taking vicious satisfaction from the way the boy flailed around with his arms before pulling him off, watching him gasp for breath, eyes glazed with tears and lust.

The boy ( _Mistral_ , a voice in his mind insisted) leaned forward again after catching his breath and opened his mouth on Mercer’s dick and sucked him back in.

“By the gods, he _likes_ this!” Mercer thinks, stunned as Mistral wrapped a fine-fingered hand on his cock and rapidly jerked him off, sucking hard at the tip.

Violet eyes peered up at him in mischief and Mercer groaned, tipping his head back as he came so hard he almost blacked out.

Numb, he watched as the mage perform an almost reverse strip-tease; sliding those robes up those perfect shoulders, brushing off flecks of rope-shaped ash from his wrists, then finally trailing those fingers around the multiple bruises on the pale skin.

Still strangely calm, he duly identified the glow as coming from a healing spell.

“Well done, Guildmaster. Yes, that was indeed a healing spell.,” said the mage as he bent down and slipped on his fine boots. “And before that was a Calm spell called Harmony, and yet before that was the basic Flames spell, and even before that was...”

“Fury,” Mercer managed to croak out. Then his eyes widened. _His guild!_

“Please, Guildmaster. A bit more advanced than that. Do not underestimate the level of your innate resistance. Though I was quite surprised at the way your uh, _Fury_ , manifested itself,” Mistral smirked. The lascivious curve of those plump red lips had Mercer’s cock valiantly twitching against his thigh within seconds, much to his horror.

He attempted to fight through the cold, expansive feeling of alien calm washing through him.

“My guild,” he tried again.

“They’re all sleeping off the mass paralysis spell I cast on them the moment you dragged me in here. I was anticipating a fight,” the mage answered calmly, smoothing down his robes, the hard bulge in front catching Mercer's eye and making his mouth water.

_He's still hard. He's still..._

“Wait!” he called out. “Who _are_ you?”

“Mistral Blume, incumbent Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold. Although Tolfdir is currently running it in my absence. I am on a sabbatical, you see. Good day, Guildmaster.”

And with that he walked out, leaving Mercer Frey with his mouth hanging open.

**Author's Note:**

> Shalidor's Maze requires the prospective Arch-Mage to know the four Schools of Magic: Alteration, Illusion, Destruction and Restoration. I am aware of the lack of mazes in the fic, but it's the principle that counts.


End file.
